


All I want for Christmas is you

by WritingforTheAvengers



Category: Avengers, Clint Barton - Fandom, Hawkeye - Fandom
Genre: F/M, this was supposed to be a christmas story but i finished yesterday and it needed proof reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingforTheAvengers/pseuds/WritingforTheAvengers
Summary: Around you, couples held each other tightly and kissed one another with longing; some even shed tears. Lovers, friends and families were reunited once again, and a wave of sadness hit you right in the face, plus Mariah Carey’s Christmas song was blasting all over the airport and not even your own music could drown that sound. It was Christmas Eve and you had never wanted to shoot yourself in the head more than at that time.
Relationships: Clint Barton / Reader, clint barton x reader, hawkeye x reader
Kudos: 19





	All I want for Christmas is you

You walked with your suitcase by your side feeling exhausted and jet lagged, but utterly grateful to be home and get some well-deserved rest. 

Around you, couples held each other tightly and kissed one another with longing; some even shed tears. Lovers, friends and families were reunited once again, and a wave of sadness hit you right in the face, plus Mariah Carey’s Christmas song was blasting all over the airport and not even your own music could drown that sound. It was Christmas Eve and you had never wanted to shoot yourself in the head more than at that time. 

As you walked outside the airport, you replayed in your mind the day before you went on your work trip. You’d had the worst fight with Clint, and decided to call it quits afterwards. Well, not exactly call it quits, but you two were yelling to each other and then you yelled louder to “get the fuck out” and he complied in silence. You didn’t usually fight, it was hard to fight when you’re busy fighting bad guys on the other side of the world, but there were times when you were able to live together for a few months before leaving again. 

It was hard for you to remember why exactly you guys were fighting, it must’ve been something stupid like a wet towel on the bed, or why he didn’t clean up his breakfast dishes; it all happened so fast that there could be a hundred reasons why, but all of them seemed nonsensical now. 

You wanted to call him and apologize for god knows what, but you weren’t very good at that. Not because you were proud, but because you sucked at words unless you wrote them down, but texting him or sending him an email was too impersonal and not exactly the type of apology anyone would want. 

You took an Uber to your place, and since it was kinda far, you asked the driver if you could take a nap, to which she said yes. 

You woke up a few minutes before arriving to your apartment, and you found it strange to find the lights on, especially Christmas lights. In the elevator, you texted Natasha to see if it had been her, since she had a copy of your key, but it wasn’t her. 

You walked down the hallway to your door and instinctively turned the key in the lock. A smell of food surprised you, and you were still curious if Natasha had done this whole thing. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna take some more time, dinner’s not ready yet.”

“Clint?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah,” he nodded his head quickly, showing no signs of being angry at you. “Go take a shower, I’ll let you know when the food’s ready. Want me to bring you anything?”

“Uhh,” you mumbled, “coffee would be fine, thanks… I’ll go get in the shower.”

You walked past him in direction to your room and checked if there was something off. There were some of his clothes on the closet, and in the bathroom you found a new toothbrush. It was his, obviously, since you carried yours with you. After you came out of the shower, you found a cup of coffee and a couple of gingerbread men on a plate. You dressed up comfortably as you ate the things that Clint had left on your night table and you heard soft knock on the door.

“Hey,” Clint peered in between a narrow space between the door and the frame, “I hope that was a good appetizer, dinner’s ready.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you smiled softly. “I think I’m gonna dress up a little bit.”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled and shook his head. “This is not my best outfit,” he flashed a confident smile and you couldn’t help but to smile again. “Come on,” he turned around and walked away, leaving the door open.

It wasn’t a surprise to see the table completely decorated and with food that smelled and looked delicious, Clint liked doing that. He was the one who always prepared dinners at your place with the team and your friends. Was this his way of saying he was sorry? You were sorry too, for yelling at him, for telling him to leave the day before a big mission. You were sorry for fighting.

“This is great,” you hummed in delight. “You always make the best food, Clint… but I wanna ask you something,” your voice turned serious. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m having dinner with you, of course,” he said, and made your question feel a bit silly. “Why do you ask?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean… why are you here having dinner with me? Last thing I remember was us fighting and yelling and… and then I told you to leave, in much, much harsher words…” You sighed. “For all I know, Clint, I would’ve thought you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

“I was angry, and I was being childish and irresponsible. I mean, we live together and you keep this place squeaky clean—I should try and do the same thing,” he shrugged. “I mean, not try—but you know what I mean. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, and I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“I could’ve called Nat,” you cocked an eyebrow.

“I know, but I didn’t want us to be over like that. I love you, and I know you love me back, and we’re great together, so why ruin that? I know we don’t get to be with each other like this too often. Our jobs suck for couples, but we’ve made this work all these years, and I really don’t want us to be apart, or mad at each other, though I’d understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I love you, Clint,” you tugged at your bottom lip. “Both of us were wrong, and that’s all, so let’s just try to leave this behind us, and enjoy this dinner, which, by the way, is amazing.”

“Would you have missed my cooking?”

“Yes, so much,” you nodded. “But I would’ve missed you more than anything, all of you. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, baby.”


End file.
